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Showing posts with label viking romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label viking romance. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 3, 2022

RRR presents... ESCAPING WITH HER SAXON ENEMY by Sarah Rodi - EXCERPT!

Hi guys!
Welcome back to Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers.


Today, we're getting back on the bookish bus with another two-fer sort of day, so hold on tight...to your reading list! Maybe grab a pen too because yeah, there's definitely some great reading ahead. Speaking of which, let's shine the BOOK SPOTLIGHT a little brighter as we focus in on blog tour guest numero uno via Rachel's Random Resources and Mills and Book! It's a Historical Romance set back in the times of the Vikings, so put your war face on as we take a peek between the pages of...


Escaping With Her Saxon Enemy
by
Sarah Rodi
Mills & Boon


About the book...
Her tempting enemy is a chink in her armour!

Viking shield maiden, Svea Ivarsson, would far rather face Saxon warriors than be on the run with the fiercely captivating Lord Ashford Stanton, protector to the Saxon King. Reaching Ash’s family castle, Svea must swap her chainmail for life as a Lady. She can wield a sword like an expert, but no training has prepared her for craving the touch of her greatest enemy…


 

AMAZON  UK  |  US




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~~~ EXCERPT ~~~

Danish shield maiden Svea Ivarsson and Saxon Lord Ashford Stanton were leading the royal convoy through the forest when they were ambushed and got separated from their people. Now they are heading to Ash’s fortress to raise an army, but before they get there, they are approached by a group of Saxon men on horseback...

‘Can’t you tell them who you are? That you’re a Saxon too?’
‘It’s not me I’m worried about! By the colour of your hair, your eyes—hell, even the markings on your skin—they’ll know you’re a Dane,’ he said, sounding almost annoyed with her, his hand coming up to curl over her braids and pull them down over her neck to cover up the dark swirls. ‘It will be better for you to be seen as my property, not my ally,’ he said, nodding to the makeshift bonds to explain why he’d created them. ‘Give me your sword.’
Her hand gripped the hilt firmly. ‘No!’ It was her mother’s sword and her only protection. She prided herself on being able to defend herself or die trying…
‘I’m your protection now,’ he ground out. ‘Please believe I’m doing this for your own good. I don’t want to frighten you, Svea, but now is not the time to argue.’
She scowled, gripping the sword even tighter. By the deafening sound of the horses’ hooves, and the feel of the ground rumbling beneath her feet, she knew their enemy was almost upon them.
‘Svea,’ he pressed, leaning in close. ‘You’re an incredibly beautiful woman and those men… Most of them would probably love to get their hands on you. I don’t want that to happen, do you?’ 
It was as if he was iterating her deepest, darkest fears. A shiver ran down her spine as his words hit their mark. She tried hard to make sure she wasn’t attractive to men, had thought it was working, even on him… Yet he was saying he thought she was beautiful? No man had ever dared tell her that before—for fear she might pummel them. But Ash…
His warm hand covered hers, coaxing her fingers to release the weapon. ‘Now give me your blade.’
The sword slipped deftly from her fingers into his.
‘Put this on,’ he said, handing her his cloak. ‘Keep it wrapped around you. Keep yourself covered up. Don’t draw any attention to yourself.’
Suddenly voiceless, and defenceless, she let him drape the woollen garment around her shoulders. If he was worried, she knew she should be. And she felt as if this time she had even more to lose.
Ash tugged her to the back of him and they stepped away from the shelter of the horse just as the large group of riders bore down on them. ‘Stay behind me. Keep your head down. And don’t say a word,’ he whispered.
The armed men reined in their horses and came to a stop in front of them, surrounding them. Ice-cold dread flowed through her. She had been surrounded like this before…
‘Good day to you.’ 
A man with a menacing appearance cantered forward, he and his horse heaving from the exertion of their ride. He removed his crested helmet and smoothed down his greasy hair. He reminded her of a peacock. He had a mean, conceited face and his eyes raked over their attire, assessing Ash’s Saxon armour and no doubt realising he must be a man of status if he could afford a slave.
‘And to you.’
She noticed Ash was careful not to place his hand on the hilt of his sword, not wanting to incite any conflict. He just stood proud, assured. But with the point of view of someone who was beginning to know his behaviour, from spending so much time in his company, she saw the tension visible in his neck and in the rigidity of his stance.
The leader turned his eye to his spear, which he was twirling in his hand, as if the long, sharp weapon somehow proved his manhood. Svea resisted rolling her eyes. She wished she could snatch her sword back from Ash.
‘We’re looking for a Saxon camp in Alderbury Forest. Have you passed through that way?’
Ash nodded. ‘Aye, we saw it. You’re heading in the right direction. If you keep going, you’ll be sure to come across it.’
The man’s eyes narrowed on them. ‘Then you must have heard. Calhourn soldiers are rallying men to march on Termarth. The people have had enough of our King making friends with the Danes. Won’t you be joining us?’
Ash inclined his head casually. ‘I may well be. But I have a situation of my own to sort out first.’ His voice was unwavering, as if he was in total control. And his response had been non-committal. She knew he was trying to calm the situation before it escalated. But how did he do it? How did he hide his anger so well? She had struggled with that for years, taking her resentment out on all men—especially those she encountered on the battlefield. 
‘Saxon lords have been promised more land, gold and spoils from the fight, if that helps to sway you. But it seems you have already found spoils of your own.’ The man smirked, trying to peer around Ash.
Svea felt sick as the man’s blatant beady-eyed stare scraped over her. She felt the slow creep of dread sweeping across her skin and saw Ash’s fingers bunch into fists at his sides, while a muscle flickered in his jaw.
‘We have orders to kill those who oppose our cause. If you’re not with us, you’re against us… Of course I’d be happy to keep quiet, but my silence is going to come at a cost.’
She felt Ash take a deep, steadying breath. ‘I’m not a bargaining man. But even if I were, I have no silver to pay you. And, as you can see, I’m travelling light.’
‘From where I’m standing, it looks like you have all the riches in the world. Especially to me and my men, who have been riding for two days. We could do with some entertainment. Tell you what—just hand over that pretty slave girl of yours, soldier, and we’ll allow you to be on your way.’
Svea swallowed. Normally she would have reached for her sword, lashed out by now. But she was beginning to realise she didn’t just have herself to think about. If she started a fight she would need Ash’s help to finish it. They really were in this together. 
‘The girl is mine,’ Ash said. ‘If you want her, you’ll have to fight me for her.’





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About the author...


Sarah Rodi has always been a hopeless romantic. She grew up watching old, romantic movies recommended by her grandad, or devouring love stories from the local library. Sarah lives in the village of Cookham in Berkshire, where she enjoys walking along the River Thames with her husband, her two daughters and their dog. She has been a magazine journalist for over 20 years, but it has been her lifelong dream to write romance for Mills & Boon. Sarah believes everyone deserves to find their happy ever after. You can contact her via @sarahrodiedits or sarahrodiedits@gmail.com. 

TWITTER  |   SITE




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Special thanks to Rachel at Rachel's Random Resources for the chance to bring this tour to you. (THANKS!) For more information on this title, the author, this promotion, or those on the horizon, feel free to click through the links provided above. This title is available now, so click on over to your favorite online retailer to snag your copy today and be sure to check out the rest of the tour for more bookish fun!



Until next time, remember...if it looks good, READ IT!


Saturday, June 5, 2021

RRR presents... THE VIKING CHIEF'S MARRIAGE ALLIANCE by Lucy Morris - EXCERPT!

Hi guys!
Welcome back to Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers.


Today, we're joining Rachel's Random Resources for a tour already in progress starring a new Historical Fiction title via Harlequin Books. It's from a subgenre in the Romance category that I haven't read, but where there's a fan, there's a story! Ready or not, fair readers, let's get this bookish party started as we set our sights on today's title in the spotlight...


The Viking Chief’s Marriage Alliance
by
Lucy Morris

About the book...
A challenging wife...
For a warrior Viking...

When Thorstein Bergson rescues a beautiful woman from a storm-tossed longship he little expects to broker a powerful marriage alliance with her. This high-status ice queen is not the comfortable wife this warrior chief is seeking, but maybe the bittersweet pain in Gyda’s eyes hides another woman beneath? The one he tasted that first night, when she kissed him with such pent-up longing…







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~~~ EXCERPT ~~~


EXTRACT 2 –. This is near the beginning of my story after my heroine, Gyda has been saved by the hero Thorstein from her shipwreck


The boat rocked to one side, and she clutched at the clinker-built planks to stop from sprawling at the stranger’s feet.
He noticed her then, and crouched down in front of her. His eyes washed over her in a detached assessment. It was apparent that he didn’t like what he saw because he snarled out a curse. Then his hand moved like a striking snake and grabbed hold of her foot.
She kicked out with a shout of protest, flustered by the speed and heat of his touch. ‘What are you d-d-d-doing?’ she asked, hating how pathetic the cold made her sound.
‘Checking your feet,’ he said, as he tugged off her shoes and leg wrappings with frightening efficiency.
Her breath came out in a hiss at the sight of her naked feet. They were as pale as bone and there was a frighteningly blue tinge beneath her toenails. The man cursed and pulled the blanket from his own shoulders with a snap of his wrist. He shook it out and wrapped her bare feet and calves in the dry wool, swaddling them until they were wrapped under several layers.
‘You should take off all your wet clothing and wrap yourself in dry blankets to avoid a chill.’
He dragged over a nearby pile of blankets and started to rub her hair vigorously with one of them as if she were a child. She felt light-headed from the rough movement as her braids unravelled in a mess around her shoulders. She’d be untangling the knots for hours.
‘N-n-no,’ she ground out through trembling lips.
‘I have seen men lose limbs after being exposed to the sea.’
He was right, of course, and they both knew it. But she was a lone woman in a strange land, with little protection or wealth. But her clothes and jewellery identified her as a jarl’s wife. They gave her power in a world ruled by men. They were her sword and her shield. And she would wield them with arrogance and pride—because if these men realised how vulnerable she truly was… Well, it didn’t bear thinking about.
‘Take off your cloak at least. Otherwise it will only soak the dry blankets and make you ill.’
The idea of being sick as well as destitute made her earlier resolve falter. She looked into his bright blue eyes and wondered if she could trust him. For all his gruffness and huge physique, he seemed genuinely concerned for her health.
Refusing to break eye contact, or back down in the silent battle of wills between them, he stood up and raised one eyebrow in question.
She would concede the cloak, she decided. She could already feel the wind biting into the damp cloth and it made the horrible shivering worse. She shuffled to her feet in a huff, refusing to acknowledge that he was right or had had any say in her decision. The strength of her conviction was somewhat diminished when she wobbled on her numb feet as exhaustion threatened to engulf her.
His large hand snapped out to steady her and out of habit she flinched. His hand hesitated, and then settled gently on her shoulder, steadying her with its warm strength.
She avoided his shocked expression with grim determination and began to fiddle with the bronze brooch on her cloak.
‘Let me help…your fingers must be numb,’ he said in a soothing tone, as if she were a spooked horse.
He reached for her brooch. The design was intricate and shaped into Odin’s ravens of thought and knowledge, both of which had currently flown from her mind as his fingers brushed a welcome flame beneath her jaw.
Her shoulders relaxed as she took a shuffling step towards him, gripping the blanket around her head and shoulders, afraid of the inevitable blast of cold once the cloak was gone. He quickly undid the brooch and her blue cloak pooled at her bundled feet.
She was grateful when he quickly gathered the blankets that were draped over her closer, shielding her from the wind and the eyes of the other men.
‘No one will see if you strip down to your shift,’ he said, deliberately raising his chin and looking up with great interest at the seagulls weaving through the clouds.
Now that she was free of her wet cloak, the chill of the sea air was making her tremble viciously. She decided to trust the honour of this warrior, for now, and tried to unbuckle the matching brooches that held up her thick woollen gown. But her fingers were raw from the earlier rope burn, and as the wind bit into them she struggled even to grip a brooch without her hands screaming in pain.
She gave up with a sigh of frustration. ‘I can’t undo the brooches…my fingers…’
‘Hold the blanket and I will help you.’
She took hold of the blanket’s corners, her fingers brushing against his delicious warmth once again. He avoided her eyes as he bent his head to focus on the clasps. They were tiny in his hands, and he had to bend down significantly to look at them. His hot breath fanned against her neck and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from sighing.
She glanced down and embarrassment clawed up her spine. She imagined she looked terrible, and his unpleasant scowl only confirmed it. He removed each brooch with grim determination, as if he were removing a leech. It was another blow to her already tattered pride.
Gyda squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. She did not care what this man or, in fact, any man thought of her.
No man would ever break her again.





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About the author...


Lucy Morris lives in Essex, UK, with her husband, two young children and two cats. She has a massively sweet tooth and loves gin, bubbly and Irn-Bru. A member of the UK Romantic Novelists' Association, she was delighted to accept a two-book deal with Harlequin after submitting her story to the Warriors Wanted submission blitz for Viking, Medieval and Highlander romances.

Writing for Harlequin Historical is a dream come true for her and she hopes you enjoy her books!






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Special thanks to Rachel at Rachel's Random Resources for the chance to bring this tour to you. (THANKS!) For more information on this title, the author, this promotion, or those on the horizon, feel free to click through the links provided above. This title is available now, so click on over to your favorite online retailer to snag your copy today and be sure to check out the rest of the tour for more bookish fun!


Until next time, remember...if it looks good, READ IT!


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